


The Info Desk

by jamesiee



Series: The Fifth Floor [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Meet-Cute, Nursey isn't on the hockey team, alternative universe, that's the only real difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesiee/pseuds/jamesiee
Summary: Dex slammed World History: Connections to Today shut and had to stop himself from throwing it across the library. He tossed it across the table though, just to make it clear that he was pissed off at a history textbook. His com-sci textbooks had never let him down like this before.  Dex first regretted signing up for a history class the moment he set foot in the classroom. He regretted it again when he saw the reading list. Then again when he figured out that assigned readings might not be assigned from the mandatory textbooks. He regretted it less when he met Info Desk Guy.He regretted everything when he lost his ability to hold a conversation every time he had a chance to have one with Info Desk Guy. It really wasn't as funny as Chowder thought.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> The working title for this is "Library Gay Fate" because my friend told me about something similar happening to her and I stayed up too late making it into a fic because it was just too perfect a scenario to leave alone. Part 2, where gay fate aligns itself perfect, coming soon!!!  
> *This is completely unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Main pairing is Nursey/Dex with Caitlin/Chowder as a side pairing. Part 2 of this series is all about Caitlin/Chowder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Slight edits made 10 February 2017

Dex regretted signing up for History 112: Intro to Global History as soon as he sat down on the first day and was handed a six-page syllabus. Seeing the book list with each week’s reading was enough to make him want to get up and leave the lecture hall, never to return to the Social Sciences building on campus. See, Dex was a numbers guy, felt more comfortable reading code than reading about past events, but Samwell had mandatory Arts courses for its science students (and vice versa), so Dex needed to stay in this class and suffer through the reading list.  

He again regretted signing up for History 112 when he lugged the two 200 page mandatory textbooks to the library one Saturday afternoon and couldn’t find the weeks assigned readings in either textbook. After checking, and double-checking just to be sure, Dex slammed _World History: Connections to Today_ shut and had to stop himself from throwing it across the library. He tossed it across the table though, just to make it clear that he was pissed off at a history textbook. His com-sci textbooks had never let him down like this before.

Chowder finished typing a line of code before looking at Dex with a raised eyebrow. 

“I hate history,” Dex announced, glaring at his textbook nearest to him.

“That’s not news,” Chowder snorted and started typing again. He slowed when Dex didn’t go back to his work right away, eventually stopping completely with a huff. “Okay, what’s the problem with history this week?”

“The readings aren’t in the textbooks.”

“Lemme see your syllabus.”

Dex handed the stapled syllabus. “I’ve already like triple checked man. There’s no chapter on 16th century pirates in either of these dumb books. They’d actually be interesting books then.”

“Your reading is on course reserve.” Chowder gave back the syllabus, interrupting Dex’s rant about the textbooks. 

“It’s what?”

If Chowder weren’t such a nice person, Dex would swear that he’d just rolled his eyes at Dex’s completely legitimate question. It wasn’t Dex’s fault that he had never taken an Arts class before and had no idea what course reserve was. Chowder really only knew cause he’d taken his arts requirement in freshmen year so the high horse he was riding didn't suit him.

“The prof put the reading on reserve. So you gotta go ask them,” Chowder pointed towards the library’s info desk, over Dex’s shoulder, “to get it for you and you rent it out for like a couple hours.”

Dex stared down at the syllabus, wondering where the asterisk next to the week’s reading that said _on course reserve_  had been hiding before Chowder pointed it out. “That’s so dumb. What’s the point of the textbooks if they don’t have all the readings in them? Jesus, I hate history.”

Now Dex was sure that Chowder rolled his eyes as he went back to his own homework as Dex pushed back from the table and stalked over to the info desk. He was annoyed at himself and at the discipline of history as a whole and still wasn’t entirely sure what a course reserve was. He tried to wait patiently as the guy manning the info desk answered someone else’s question but he couldn’t help tapping his foot while he waited.

He’d already lost half an hour trying to find the damn chapter and he only had so long in the library before Saturday skate and history already stressed him and he hoped this week wasn’t a discussion week and seriously, what the fuck were course reserves and—

Dex’s train of thought was cut off by a soft “How can I help you man?” and he looked up to see the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life behind the ugly blue info desk counter.

Info Desk Guy’s eyes were a ridiculous green colour, framed by long lashes that made them even more ridiculously green. His dark hair was curly and messy and the stubble along his jaw added to his attractiveness rather than take away from it like when Dex forgot to shave and Dex wondered what it would feel like under his fingers and against his lips and that’s when he realized that he’d be staring for too long and ohmygod Info Desk Guy could raise one eyebrow just like Chowder and Dex really needed to say something before it got too weird.

“Uhh…” Dex started, feeling his face already started to go red. Fuck. “Course reserves?”

Info Desk Guy was looking at Dex with a small grin. “We have those.”

Shit, now Dex was sure his ears were red too. “Right. Um. I need one.”

“Which one?”

“History uhhh… shit.” Dex ran a hand through his hair and really hoped that he wasn’t looking as stupid as he felt. He sincerely doubted it though. “History 112. Um, the reading on pirates.”

“Do you have the title of the reserve?” Info Desk Guy asked, starting to turn away towards a giant accordion file folder to the right of the info desk computer.

Dex nodded and awkwardly ran back to his table. He snatched his syllabus, only slightly crumpling it, and then speed walked back to the info desk. He slapped it down on the desk with too much enthusiasm if Info Desk Guy’s raised eyebrows were anything to go by. Still, Info Desk Guy turned it so he could properly read the words and flipped through to find the right week.

“ _Pirates: The Politics of Plunder, 1550-1650_?” Info Desk Guy asked, looking Dex for confirmation.

Dex had no idea why, he obviously knew nothing about anything at this point in his embarrassment, but Info Desk Guy just kept looking at Dex until he nodded. Info Desk Guy went back to flicking through the files. He made a soft “aha” sound when he got to the right one, yanking it out of the pile with absolutely no grace. He scanned it.

“Last name?” He asked.

“Oh, um, P-O-I-N-D-E-X-T-E-R.” Dex said. Info Desk Guy typed as Dex spelled and then scanned the course reserve. 

“So you have the reading for like three hours. Just bring it back when you’re finished.” He handed the large stapled document over to Dex.

“Cool, thank you,” Dex said, relieved when he took the file without dropping it. It looked to be a photocopied chapter of another textbook. Fucking history.

“See you around William,” Info Desk Guy said with a wink. Dex made a weird grunting noise, cause apparently he forgot how to talk when good looking guys called him by his full name, and all but ran back to his table. He sat back in his chair, his back to the info desk unfortunately, and glared at Chowder who was pointedly staring down at his computer screen, but failing to keep a straight face.

“Shut the fuck up, C,” Dex said, opening his notebook to take notes while he read.

“I didn’t say anything!” Chowder’s smile grew. “William.” He easily caught the pen that Dex threw at him.

Damn goalies.

*********

After an hour and a half with the pirate reading, Dex had read through it twice, taken half decent notes, and somewhat understood most of what it was talking about. He’d written down some questions about the article, just in case it was a discussion class and was feeling much better about life as a whole. He even felt confident that he’d be able to have an actual conversation with Info Desk Guy now that he wasn’t stressing about the readings.

He packed up his things efficiently, including the stupid doodle of him and Info Desk Guy that Chowder had left when he left the library 30 minutes earlier, making sure to leave the course reserve out. It would be just his luck to put in his backpack and then have the security thing beep when he tried to leave. At least Chowder wouldn’t be around to chirp him for it if it did happen.

Dex heaved his backpack on his back, again cursing the stupid heavy history books, carefully picked up the photocopied chapter and made his way over to the info desk. This time he was content to wait while someone else was being helped as it gave him a moment to actually think about how to interact like a human with Info Desk Guy. He was pretty sure leaning on the counter and flexing his arms would be too much, but it was like his best move on short notice. And he didn’t have time to think about more as the person in front of him had finished checking out so he put on his best flirty smile and stepped up to the counter and—fuck. 

“Oh heeeey Will.”

“Fuck me,” Dex muttered, stepping up. He tossed the course reserve down with less care than he would’ve had it been Info Desk Guy and not his ex from the soccer team behind the desk.

Bradley also had green eyes but his hair was sandy blond and his was pale like Dex and a snob and an all around terrible human being post break-up.

“Hi Bradley. Look at you out of your lizard suit and acting like a real human being.” It had not been a good breakup and Dex was petty, sue him. He pushed the course reserve further towards Bradley, who rolled his eyes at Dex but before he could say anything else, Dex walked out of the library, more disappointed than he’d like to admit that he hadn’t gotten another chance to talk to Info Desk Guy.

*********

After a light evening skate, Chowder somehow convinced Dex that going to Annie’s for a small concert thing was a good thing to do on a Saturday night.

“Chowder man, where did you even hear about it?” Dex asked, looking around the busy café. Usually Dex really liked the vibe at Annie’s. It was a good spot during the week to spend his longer breaks between classes with a coffee and a bagel but tonight most of the tables had been taken away and all the chairs were facing the small stage that had been set up in the corner. Everyone around Dex smelled vaguely of weed or B.O. Or both. It was crowded enough that he and Chowder seemed to have been lucky to find two seats on the end of a row, and yet Dex wasn't feeling very lucky. 

“I saw a poster in the dining hall,” Chowder said, taking a sip of the overpriced drink he bought solely because it came in a large mason jar. “I thought it sounded cool.”

“You think everything sounds cool,” Dex grumbled. He would’ve been super content to spend his Saturday evening back in his room watching movies, or wondering why he’d never seen Info Desk Guy anywhere on campus before—it wasn’t like Samwell was a big place—or he could’ve even dealt with the frat party that Holster and Ransom had been talking about in locker room rather than this but Farmer was gone all weekend at an away game and Chowder sometimes used his puppy dog eyes for evil when he didn’t want to go places alone.

“Are you grumpy because you forgot how to act normal around a hot guy earlier?”

Dex had hoped that Chowder had politely forgotten about that when he didn’t bring it up at all during practice, but when he glanced at Chowder, he wore a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck you man.” Dex shoved at Chowder’s shoulder, making him laugh out loud.  “He was so good looking, and I’m only human. Plus I’ve never seen him before so like when am I gonna see him again?”

“You know where he works Dex. I’m sure you’ll be able to find him.”

“That’s kinda creepy, isn’t it?”

“Shhhh, I think it’s starting.”

The lights overhead dimmed and a spotlight was trained on the stage where there was a lone microphone set up in front of a sad looking drum set. A woman dressed in black came out to stand at the mic and everyone stopped talking.

“Hello and thank you for coming out. It’s good to see so many faces. I’ll be your host for tonight’s spoken word jam. I hope you enjoy tonight’s performances. Sign up sheets for next week are at the back, please consider signing up if you feel particularly inspired. First we have…” The rest of her words were lost to everyone snapping their fingers in some sort of semblance of applause.

“Did she say spoken word? Like poetry?” Dex asked Chowder who looked absolutely delighted to be snapping instead of clapping.

“Shhhh,” Chowder shushed Dex.

“Chowder, I swear to god. I hate poetry!”

“You hate everything.”

A bang on the drums cut off Dex’s response. The first performed had apparently decided to start his piece with a literal bang before going on to wail about a failed relationship with… his mom?

Dex really didn’t understand poetry.

He sat through half an hour of poetry by commandeering Chowder’s mason jar drink, which he was pleasantly to find had alcohol in it. The little bit of alcohol in his system did nothing to help Dex understand the poetry, but it did relax him a little bit and he started looking around the venue, curious to people watch. The person on stage was talking about their first period and Dex was pretending to crack his back in order to see the people behind him when he accidentally caught the eye of Info Desk Guy. Who happened to be sitting right behind Chowder.

Dex turned around to the stage so fast he probably gave himself whiplash. His luck was never this good; he could actually have a normal conversation with Info Desk Guy sometime that night.

The overhead lights came back on, as period-person finished their piece and the first woman in black called for a 10-minute intermission. People all around them got up out of their seats and Chowder started to as well, but Dex yanked him back down, when he saw that Info Desk Guy was getting up. He left his jacket in that seat; the universal sign for “I’ll be back,” and Dex did not want to lose his chance to talk to him.

“Ouch Dex, I gotta to stretch my legs,” Chowder said, actually getting up out of his seat.

“C, Info Desk Guy is sitting behind you,” Dex hissed. “We can’t lose these seats.”

Chowder looked behind him, in the most obvious way possible. Dex was glad he waited until Info Desk Guy was gone to tell Chowder; he did not have a subtle bone in his body.

“Aren’t you glad you came to this ‘stupid’ poetry reading?” Chowder’s voice sounded way too pleased. Dex stuck his tongue out but before he could reply, Info Desk Guy was back in his seat. Chowder smirked (Dex had no idea why people thought he was so nice) and took his phone out of his pocket. Probably to text Farmer cause it’d been like 45 minutes since they last communicated. Dex rolled his eyes, but stayed facing Chowder because it would make twisting in his chair to start to talk to Info Desk Guy less awkward.

Dex pulled out his phone and pretended to go through facebook while also watching Info Desk Guy. Info Desk Guy was looking down at his own phone, brow slightly furrowed as he scrolled. He wore a denim button up with the top three buttons undone and black skinny jeans that were tightly stretched over thick thighs and he’d put on a grey beanie styled so that he still had some dark curls framing his face. He looked like such a hipster that Dex was annoyed yet every opening to any conversation flew out of Dex’s head at this point and oh did he ever want to start a conversation with him. Dex scrolled through his phone, hoping that some sort of courage would come to him before this got too weird. Or the intermission ended.

Dex was just about to google “conversation openers” when the perfect opportunity for conversation presented itself. Info Desk Guy shifted in his seat, and as he readjusted, his keys fell out of his jacket pocket and slide underneath Chowder’s chair. Before Info Desk Guy could move, Dex grabbed the keys, head-butting Chowder’s thigh in the process. Dex ignored the laugh that Chowder did a poor job covering up as a cough and twisted to hand the keys back to Info Desk Guy and as he opened his mouth to say something clever (what, he still wasn’t sure) someone started playing the drums and the lights turned off, signaling a new round of performers. Dex dropped the keys into Info Desk Guy’s hand. Info Desk Guy mouthed “thank you,” pocketing the keys and Dex nodded stiffly. Ears burning in frustration, he turned back to the front, determined that when the light came back on, he would have something to say to Info Desk Guy.

Sometime during a poem about a frog and a fly, Dex had decided he would compliment Info Desk Guy’s hat before introducing himself and then start talking about the poem about periods (it was the only performance that he could remember well enough to have any comments on). He was twisting back in his seat, almost before the overhead lights fully turned back on, ready to have the best conversation of his life with Info Desk Guy only to find Info Desk Guy’s seat empty, no jacket left behind to signal any sort of return.

He felt rather than saw Chowder turn around and see the empty seat.

“Well fuck.”

Dex blinked in surprise; Chowder almost never swore off the ice, he said he saved it all for intimidating people in his crease.

“I totally thought I’d have to listen to another awkward attempt at a conversation. I didn’t think he’d just disappear before.”

“Today is really not my day,” Dex groaned, ignoring Chowder’s half-hearted chirp. He got up and shrugged into his jacket. Chowder did the same, following him out into the aisle and to the door.

“It’s cool though Dex, you still know where he works!” Chowder said. He walked through the door that Dex held open for him.

“I still think that sounds super creepy.” Dex shoved his hands into his pocket. The October air had turned crisp while they were in Annie’s. “I’ll probably never see him again anyways.”

“It’s the library Dex. You’ll be studying everyday till midterms- why not study there?”

Dex thought about it and the idea started to really grow on him. He really, really wanted to talk to Info Desk Guy (he was a sucker for curly hair like you wouldn’t believe). He had to study anyways and though he usually preferred studying in the Computer Sciences Building, what harm could come from changing his study spot?

Probably none.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cait and I like having Dex as our third wheel,” Chowder said, elbowing Dex in the ribs. “He’s a good date.” Dex shoved him away but followed Chowder following to the party because sometimes it was easier to just go along with Holster and Ransom. And it wasn’t like he could had a chance to do anything about Info Desk Guy on a Saturday night. Dex’s luck wasn’t good enough to run into Info Desk Guy three times in one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know- "soon" was relative I guess. 
> 
> This got wayyyy outta hand. The hockey team wanted to be written and have friendship moments and I liked the moments too much to cut them out so here we are with a slow burn (ish?) that never meant to be a slow burn. 
> 
> *Completely unbeta'd; all mistakes are my own.

 

On the walk back to the dorms from Annie’s, Dex and Chowder literally ran into Holster and Ransom. They were on their way to their second party of the night and upon seeing what Chowder called Dex’s kicked puppy dog face, decided that the two sophomores absolutely needed to accompany them because “Dudes, mad pussy and peen! Chowder we know you’re married, but Dex needs to live his life beyond his status as your third wheel!”

“Cait and I like having Dex as our third wheel,” Chowder said, elbowing Dex in the ribs. “He’s a good date.” Dex shoved him away but followed Chowder to the party because sometimes it was easier to just go along with Holster and Ransom. And it wasn’t like he could had a chance to do anything about Info Desk Guy on a Saturday night. Dex’s luck wasn’t good enough to run into Info Desk Guy three times in one day.

Dex had meant to stay for only one round of beer pong, seriously he did, but then he and Chowder lost their first game on a bad bounce and rather than concede the table, they had to call for a rematch. They lost again, despite Chowder’s best efforts to cheat by distracting the other team with his chest, and were actually kicked off the table.

They found the tub juice and traded their cups of warm beer for the scarily orange drink that tasted like Sunny D. Chowder got dragged into a conversation with a group of track guys and Dex stood off to the side awkwardly. Some nights he could flirt and interact with the best of them, but he’d had a weird day so he stood off to the side, half listening to the conversation.

When Chowder started seriously debating volleyball tactics with the group, Dex considered how he could slip away and maybe go home and not be super hungover in the morning. Before he could make a move, Ransom popped outta nowhere and decided that it was time to play wingman for Dex.

“Dex buddy, c’mere! Farmer’s not even here and you’re still somehow third wheel, jeez.” Ransom double fisted with a cup of beer in one hand and a cup of tub juice in the other, and somehow still  managed to get Dex into the kitchen, and top up his tub juice. Holster was nowhere in sight, which was both worrying and a good thing. Holster was a very over enthusiastic wingman and Dex probably couldn’t handle that level of excitement right now. Ransom wasn’t much better, but his Canadian politeness usually meant he remembered to at least use his inside voice.

Ransom’s method of wingmanning was very straightforward tonight; he literally pushed people at Dex and said, “This is Dex, he likes long walks on the beach, lobsters, and fixing things.” It was late enough in the night that people would stumble at Ransom’s shove and, more often than not, catch themselves on Dex’s chest. Then they’d laugh and Ransom would wink and then Dex would try to start a conversation that didn’t involve course reserves. Or lobsters.

Most nights, Dex enjoyed when his teammates tried to set him up with someone for a good night, but no one could hold his interest tonight despite Ransom’s best efforts. None of them had green eyes, or curly hair, and they probably couldn’t help Dex with course reserves or other info desk questions he might have. His standards seemed impossibly high so while Ransom got distracted first by Whiskey and Tango’s arrival to the party (“YOU’RE SUCH BABIES, WHY ARE YOU HERE!?”) and then by Holster coming down the stairs looking rumpled, Dex snuck away from Ransom’s wingmanning. Chowder was in the middle of an intense retelling of how he and Farmer met, and waved Dex away when he asked if Chowder wanted to leave with him. So Dex sent a text to the group chat to let them know he was leaving, jokingly tacking on a “ _be safe ;)_ ” for Holster and Ransom and the tadpoles. Chowder would be fine if he didn’t get back onto the beer pong table. He only made bad alcoholic decisions if Farmer was actually there to encourage him. Their foreplay was really weird.

Back in his dorm, Dex kicked his pants off dramatically and got ready for bed. He crawled under his blankets thinking about how he could interact with Info Desk Guy without just creepily watching him at the info desk. Thanks to his slight buzz, he couldn’t really come up with an idea beyond Chowder’s “go to the library and hope Info Desk Guy is working” plan.  After a scroll through his social medias, Dex eventually fell asleep, resigned to the fact that the library would become his new study spot for midterms.

*****

Dex woke up Sunday morning slightly hungover. His nausea went away after he brushed the taste of stale alcohol out of his mouth and had a cold shower, but the pounding behind his eyes lingered. He made the effort to get dressed in a decent pair of jeans, a clean t-shirt, and one of his less worn flannels. Dex was just vain enough to want to look good at the library in case Info Desk Guy was there, but he desperately wished that he didn’t care and he could work on his stupid coding assignment in peace. He packed up his backpack; happily trading the history books for the Compsci textbook that had never let him down.

Stuffing his headphones in his pocket, Dex made sure his door clicked locked as he left for the dining hall, and texted Chowder to see if he was alive and wanted to meet at the library to work on the coding assignment together. He found that he already had three texts from Chowder, alive but barely if the misspelled words were anything to go by, and a text from the group chat announcing that Bitty was a saint and was making brunch for anyone who couldn’t feel their eyeballs. Dex figured that his headache counted (and he wasn’t sure if could ever feel his eyeballs if he was being completely honest) so abruptly did a 180 on the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding taking out the freshman walking too closely behind him. Dex ignored the glare, withheld his comment about how lanyards go in your pocket not around your neck, and carried on to the Haus.

He let himself in through the front door, wincing when the screen door slammed behind him. He made a mental note to write a physical note to himself to fix the door the next time he wasn’t coming into the Haus with a growling stomach. He left his backpack by the stairs and followed the smell of bacon to where Bitty stood over the stove watching three separate frying pans. He had a spatula in one hand and barbeque tongs in the other and his phone played soft music while he cooked.

“‘Sup Bitty?” Dex said. Bitty waved, bopping to the music. His grin widened to a grateful smile when Dex started for the cupboard to get the plates to set the table.

Chowder sat on the wall side of the table and had his head tipped back, eyes closed, and feet propped up on the chair across the table. He had the hood of his Sharks hoodie pulled up; the strings hanging unevenly.

“Yo, C, lookin’ rough man,” Dex said, setting the plates down and pulling on the left string to make them even. Chowder made a sound of protest, opening his eyes to glare at Dex who was getting utensils.

“How’d you escape so early last night? The track guys challenged us to flip cup,” He said, sitting up and setting the plates. “Is Lardo here, Bitty?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Bitty said, bringing over a pan of eggs. “FOOD’S READY!” He hollered in the general direction of the stairs, yanking Chowder’s hood down off his head.

“When you were busy telling everyone about the time Farmer literally knocked you on your ass, I left,” Dex answered Chowder, who was attempting to smooth down his hair. “Wasn’t feeling it.”

Any chirp that Chowder was going to make about why Dex wasn’t feeling it was cut off by Holster and Ransom thundering down the stairs. Well, Holster thundered; Ransom more or less staggered in.

“Why you gotta be so loud all the time Holzy?” he moaned, sitting heavily in the seat beside Chowder. He pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes and Dex thought he understood now what was meant by “can’t feel your eyeballs.”

“Why don’t you drink more water when you’re drinking?” Holster replied as he brought bacon pan over. Ransom dropped his hand to give Holster a dirty look. Holster just picked up the crispiest piece of bacon he could find and chomped on it obnoxiously. Lardo chose that moment to come into the kitchen, having walked down the stairs like a normal, quiet person.

“‘Sup losers?” She said, sliding into a chair and scooping some eggs onto the plate. “Taddies’ joining us?”

“Tango’s probably still sleeping,” Holster said. “It was like 4:30 when Whiskey and I got him to his room and his phone was dead. And Whiskey bitched about some group project meeting this morning the whole time.”

“How were you responsible enough to get Tango to his room last night?” Dex asked. Bitty snorted, half into the plate of pancakes he was serving himself from.

“I am a responsible co-captain Dex-I-Am.” Holster puffed out his chest. “I look out for you frogs.” He drenched his pancakes in syrup, pointedly adding more when Ransom fake gagged at the action.  “Where’d you get to last night anyways? Andy from the debate team was looking for an intro.”

“We have a debate team?” Chowder asked at the same time Dex said, “I thought you looked out for us frogs.”

“The baby frogs, yes.” Holster rolled his eyes. “And you would’ve liked Andy. He’s a master debater---” the rest of Holster’s sentence was cut off by the entire table groaning at his joke and the conversation derailed into how Shitty needed a shirt with that on it.

Dex and Chowder were put on dish-duty while Bitty went to take a phone call in his room and Ransom and Holster started dragging as many blankets as they could into the living room for a hung-movie-marathon.

Lardo put on the kettle for tea. She climbed onto the counter to grab enough mugs and ended up putting away the dried plates for Dex while she was up there.

“You staying for hung-movies?” She asked, taking the hand he offered to balance on the jump down.

“Can I actually do my homework without Holster turning up the volume every time I type a line of code?”

Lardo snorted. “Probably not.”

Dex stayed anyways, claiming one of Chowder’s teal Sharks blankets, a borrowed pair of worn sweatpants that were once Shitty’s  that Lardo swore were probably clean (despite what Holster insisted, lounging in jeans was weird and uncomfortable), and an end seat on the green couch. Ransom wrapped himself in a blanket in the middle seat and Holster took over the other end. The couch wasn’t strictly built for three hockey players all over 6 feet, but Dex knew that when the movie started, he’d get elbow room back as Ransom and Holster cuddled into each other on Holster’s side. When Bitty came back downstairs, he took over the other half of the loveseat, tucking himself under Lardo’s outstretched legs and stealing one of the blankets Holster had draped around his neck. Chowder looked pleased that he’d gotten the armchair in the corner; he had his comforter tucked around him and his laptop open for homework, but he looked to be more interested in his phone. He was probably texting Farmer.

Lardo had been only half right; the first time Dex typed quickly, Holster got up to turn up the volume with the buttons on the side of the T.V. (the remote had been missing since before Shitty and Jack were frogs if the stories were to be believed) but then Ransom threatened bodily harm if Holster jostled his “hungover body” again, so Holster resigned himself to only huffing every time Dex typed. That stopped too when Ransom punched Holster in the thigh. Multiple times.

Tango wandered in halfway through the third movie to a round of applause that had him looking confused, but he gratefully accepted the tea that Lardo passed him before he settled on the floor against the love seat. They ordered pizza for dinner, after a unanimous vote decided that making food or leaving for the dining hall was too much.

By the time Dex left the Haus, the streetlights were on and he had finished his assignment, no thanks to Chowder who had left after to go meet Farmer. Still, Dex was pretty happy with the progress he had made on his homework this weekend until he turned on the light in his dorm, saw the abandoned history books and remembered that he meant to go study at the library for a specific reason.

An info desk reason.

Fuck.

*****

Last year, when Dex was a freshman, midterm season had snuck up on him. It was the beginning of the hockey season and he’d been so distracted with practices and preseason games that he’d just about shit himself when his professors started to remind their classes that midterms were the next week. That weekend, after the home opener, Dex went almost 48 hours on three hours of sleep trying to cram in all the studying he hadn’t done yet. He didn’t remember actually taking any of the tests after the fact. Luckily his grades didn’t reflect that but he passed out for 15 hours after his last midterm.

This year, the newness of playing collegiate hockey has worn off a little bit so it doesn’t completely distract Dex from his classes. Yet he still found himself staying up way too late to study and waking up too early for practice. He ran on coffee and energy drinks and ate too many coffee shop bagels over his keyboard or on the way to practice because he couldn’t find the time to have many sit down meals. Surviving midterms, Dex found, was a delicate balance.

The balance of midterm season was slightly tipped when Dex changed his study spot from the computer lab in the Physical Sciences building on campus to the library. Samwell’s library, beyond having a very attractive guy working on the Info Desk, had a limited number of tables with comfortable chairs and a view of the info desk. So for the first couple of days that Dex went to the library to study after his classes, he had to trek to upper floors to find an open table. He had left the library those days with a numb ass, but he had gotten a lot done so he figured the library was as good a place as any to study.

Dex only had morning classes on Wednesdays, so after a quick lunch at the dining hall, he went to the library, determined to get a good table. He was having a good day so far; he felt good about the midterm he took that morning so he rode that high going into the library. Based on how busy the dining hall was, he figured that his chances of finding an empty comfy table were good. He stopped in his tracks when he got past the security beeper things in the library, his hopes for a comfy seat near the info desk dashed.

Unfortunately, while there were many comfy tables with no people at them, all of the tables were covered with people’s shit. Did that mean they were saved? Was everyone just in the bathroom? What the fuck. At his normal studying stops, you asked someone to look after your stuff if you had to pee or something, and that was only if they were sitting at the same table table as you. Could Dex move someone’s stuff and shit there? What were the library etiquette rules? He was staring at the table that he and Chowder had been sitting at on Saturday, covered with open textbooks and notebooks, debating if the awkwardness of moving someone else’s stuff was worth it, when someone cleared their throat behind him.

“Can I help you with anything?”

Dex jumped and turned to find Info Desk Guy behind the info desk. He had on a beanie again, this time also with a pen stuck up into it beside his temple, and somehow made a flannel and sweatpants look good. He smiled at Dex.

“Ahh, no, sorry. Just looking for a spot to sit,” Dex said, flushing. He kinda waved his hand over his shoulder to all the empty comfy tables in a super jerky movement. He felt his ears go read too match his face. Oh well, at least he managed a full sentence; who cared if he made embarrassing body movements? (He did.)

Info Desk Guy peered over Dex’s shoulder. “Fucking assholes,” he said, frowning now. He still look incredible. “Who leaves their shit to go to lunch? Goddamn, I told them we needed more signs.” He said the last bit more to himself than to Dex, though Dex still nodded like Info Desk Guy cared that he thought they needed more signs.

“The fifth floor has decent seating,” Info Desk Guy said suddenly. “I mean, the tables aren’t as big, but some of the chairs are padded and it’s usually pretty quiet up there.” He was smiling again and Dex’s stomach swooped. Dex would later blame the butterflies for what he said next.

“The views probably not as good though.” In the moment, Dex was impressed with himself, that he managed to say that cheesy line without stuttering over the words. He grinned and leaned on the counter, hoping to convey that he thought Info Desk Guy was the view. Was a wink too much? Could he wink? Shit, he couldn’t remember if he had the ability to wink.

Info Dex Guy just stared at Dex, his eyes were gorgeous holy shit, and didn’t say anything. Dex suddenly felt very stupid. He was just about open his mouth to apologize for the inappropriate comment when Info Desk Guy cleared his throat.

“Nah man, the fifth floor actually overlooks the fourth floor windows that face the quad. It’s pretty chill up there,” he said. He smiled again.

Dex pushed himself away from the counter, his face burning. He mumbled something about going to check it out before basically running to the stairs. He did end up going up to the fifth floor, because all the other floors had too many people. He wanted to be embarassed and glare at his notes without people looking at him or breathing near him, thank you very much. Info Desk Guy had been right about the comfortable chairs, but he was wrong about the view. Dex sat with his back the window, probably out of spite if he was being completely honest with himself, and settled in for a long day.  

*****

Midterm season finished and the hockey team went on a two game winning streak so it was decided that the Haus needed to throw a kegster to celebrate. It was a cool Saturday and Dex wandered over to the Haus after dinner to fix the screen door before the influx of drunk people going in and out of the Haus would make it harder to fix later. According to Ransom’s facebook event, there would be a lot of people banging through the door to the party as everyone was looking for some form of stress relief from midterms and no one wanted to wait till Halloween the next weekend.

Dex had a beer cracked open beside his toolbox, his sleeves rolled up, and Chowder and Farmer keeping him company on the porch with their own pre-party drinks. They sat on the railing in an enormous show of faith in the wood. The whole Haus was a hazard honestly, but no one but Dex seemed to be too concerned.

“It’s not even that crooked,” Chowder said. He had one arm around Farmer’s shoulders; the other he held straight out in front of him with his thumb in the air. He closed one eye and was comparing the straightness of the door to his thumb, like he actually knew anything about fixing doors.

“It’s so crooked man,” Dex replied, tempted to push Chowder over the railing. He didn’t want Farmer to go down with him so he just rolled his eyes. “Stop that, you look stupid.” He opened the screen door and squinted at the top hinge to see what kind of screws held it in place. Ah, phillips. He propped the door open with his foot as he bent to get the right screwdriver out of the tool box.

“Speaking of looking stupid, have you spoken more to the Info Desk Guy?” Chowder asked. He snorted into Farmer’s shoulder when Dex accidentally let the door slammed against the frame. Farmer openly laughed.

Dex took a sip of his beer instead of answering Chowder’s question, rethinking his decision not to push the couple over the railing.

“I mean you actually went to the library to study despite it being a ‘creepy idea’.” Chowder used his fingers as mocking quotation marks.

“Yeah, cause it’s a good place to study.”

Much to Dex’s annoyance, he really liked studying on the fifth floor. His ass never went numb, he always found a table by an outlet (a miracle during midterm season), and he could leave his stuff when had to get up to stretch or pee without feeling like a totally asshole cause it never got full up there. Library etiquette was the best when you were the one leaving your shit behind. Best of all, even after his awkward attempt to flirt, Dex hadn’t re-embarrassed himself in front of Info Desk Guy. He hadn’t been at the desk when Dex got to or left the library. He was only slightly bitter now, more embarrassed than anything that Info Desk Guy either hadn’t picked up on the flirting or politely ignored it. Even after mentioning the incident to Chowder and Farmer, and being laughed at by both of them- which rude; both of them had been so embarrassing the first month of their relationship- Dex still wanted to have an actual conversation with Info Desk Guy. There was just something about him.

“Whatever you say Dex. We all know what you’re studying there,” Farmer said, smirking at Dex’s glare.

“I hate both of you.” Dex turned back to the door. “Can one of you c’mere and hold it open for me?” The screws that attached the hinges to the frame needed to be replaced and it would be much easier if someone held the door in place while he switched them out. Farmer jumped down from the railing, setting her bottle beside Chowder.

“Go get ‘em babe!” Chowder said. He took a swing of his beer, just about falling backwards off the porch, but catching himself. The whole railing shook.

“Don’t spill my drink Christopher,” Farmer warned, only half joking.

Ransom and Holster came back with the supplies for tub juice just as Dex was testing that the door could shut without slamming. Happy with his work, he and Farmer packed up his tools to put in the basement until the next time something needed fixing. Farmer took the walk back up the stairs as an opportunity to chirp Dex's outfit choice, and he questioned his choice of friends again. 

“What’s wrong with cargo pants Farmer?” Dex asked. The cargos were one of the only pairs of pants he had that weren’t sweats or crumpled in his laundry basket. They weren’t what he’d normally wear to a party but he paired them with a black long sleeve shirt, his lowtops, and thought he’d looked good when checked himself out before walking over the Haus. Sure, the pants were a little tighter than most of Dex’s jeans, but he'd put on some muscle since the season the started and he hadn't had a chance to take them out yet.

“Nothing, but you’re not even being subtle about wanting to impress anyone. Your ass looks phenomenal in those pants,” Farmer said, laughing when Dex’s face went bright red.

“Okay, I’m back to hating you,” he announced. He took the cup out of her hand and draining it. It was mostly foam from the recently tapped keg, so he followed Farmer into the kitchen for a refill. Chowder and Bitty were in there chopping fruit for the tub juice.

“Chowder, tell your girlfriend to stop looking at my ass,” Dex said, stirring the big bowl of juice. He coughed as he got a whiff of the amount of alcohol in it.

Chowder shrugged. “She does what she wants.” He got a kiss on the cheek for that.

“No, but Dex seriously,” Farmer said. She snatched a piece of pineapple from Chowder’s cutting board, wisely choosing not to steal anything from Bitty’s cutting board. Everyone who’d been in the kitchen while Bitty was cooking knew not to steal from him if you didn’t want to get smack with whatever Bitty held, kitchen safety be dammed. “I’ll wingman for you tonight. Maybe Info Desk Guy will show up and you can impress him with your use of the English language. Or ass if that fails you.”

“Oooh, who’s Info Desk Guy?” Bitty dumped the strawberries he’d halved into the punch bowl. He stirred in Chowder’s pineapples too before Farmer could steal more.

“Dex has a crush,” Chowder answered. Dex had terrible taste in best friends.

“I do not have a crush. He’s just beautiful and I want to talk to him,” Dex told Bitty. Bitty took a sip of the tub juice from the ladle, nodded to himself and offered some to Dex. Dex took some, knowing he’d need it to get through this kegster. Somehow with the added fruit, the taste of alcohol completely disappeared. Bitty’s tub juice was a dangerous recipe.

“That sounds like a crush Dex,” Bitty sing-songed. Dex just groaned and drank his juice, apologizing to his future self for the hangover he would probably have. Ransom and Holster crashed down the stairs down arguing about who’s playlist to play and any conversation about Dex’s “crush” was forgotten as sides needed to be taken.

People started showing up when Lardo came back from the art studio to be the deciding vote. Holster’s iPod got plugged into the speakers and the music was turned up and he and Chowder started off the beer pong tournament by getting their asses kicked by Lardo and a pretty girl whose red lipstick matched her hair. After chugging the remaining cups of beer, the rematch games blurred together.

“How are you both so terrible at beer pong?” Lardo taunted Dex and Chowder when they lose yet another game, this time to a Farmer and another volleyball player.

“Maybe you guys are all just super really good.” Chowder flipped her off. The effect of the raised middle finger is completely lost as he mumbled half of his response into his cup.

Dex just laughed at Chowder’s own kicked puppy dog eyes, as he wandered into the kitchen. Bitty was there with Ollie and Wicks, discussing their mandatory classes. Dex was not interested in talking about classes tonight so he just bumped fists with Ollie as he helped himself to more tub juice before he could dragged into the conversation. He was on the pleasant side of buzzed; not quite drunk, but also not sober enough to shrug outta Holster’s grip when he pulled him to the makeshift dance floor area in the living room when Cotton Eyed Joe came on.

“You fucking kidding me, Holster!!!” Ransom’s shout could be heard over the music.

At one point during the night, after the sun had set and all the colour had bled out of the sky, Dex found himself out in the front yard in a smoke circle with Farmer and Lardo and one of her art friends. He’d come out to get some fresh air after losing some time on the makeshift dance floor in the living room, and was dragged down the steps and into the circle by Lardo. The NCAA didn’t test for marijuana anymore and Coaches Hall and Murray weren’t super strict about what the players did on their weekends off so long as it didn’t affect their on ice performance.

Dex lost track of the conversation as the joint was passed around.

“So what you’re saying is that if she asked you to go somewhere more private, you wouldn’t go?” Lardo’s art friend- Dex was pretty sure her name was Nancy- asked Lardo. Dex wondered if the “she” was the redhead.

Lardo took the joint passed to her. “No, I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying that I’m pretty sure she’s got a boyfriend.” She brought it to her mouth and inhaled angrily.

“Aww dammit. But she’s giving you mad vibes.”

“Right!?” Lardo let out a mouthful of smoke, looking like a pissed off dragon. Dex laughed and took the joint from her.

“Yo, anyone got a light?”

They all jumped at the new voice. Dex was quite proud of himself that they hadn’t heard the door slam shut. He was less proud of himself as he choked on the inhale when he saw Info Dex Guy stepping down off on the porch stairs looking unfairly hot in a knitted cardigan and a dark pair of overly ripped jeans.

Lardo thumped Dex on the back as he braced himself on his knees and coughed all the smoke out of his lungs. He vaguely heard her say something over his coughing. Bent over as he was, Dex noticed that one Info Desk Guy’s pockets hung through the highest rip on his thigh and he needed another minute to recover from seeing Info Desk Guy’s bare thigh.

When Dex straightened up, he knew his face was bright red but he figured that could be blamed on on his coughing fit and not his reaction to Info Desk Guy. He brought the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the cough-tears off his face. Maybe he’d get lucky and the ground would swallow him up before he could see again and he wouldn’t have to face Info Desk Guy and embarrass himself again. Nope, everyone was staring at Dex when he dropped his shirt, Farmer with a giant shit eating grin on her face. Jesus Christ.

“Uh, William, right?” Info Desk Guy asked, after a beat of super awkward silence.

“Yeah.” Dex’s voice cracked on the syllable. He cleared his throat, glaring at Farmer when she snorted. She just shook her head and motioned for the joint, still between Dex’s fingers. He passed it off.

“You guys know each other?” Lardo asked.

“Who has the light?” Dex asked loudly, needing this moment to be over so he could go get another drink.

In a weird game of hot potato, somehow he ended up with Lardo’s bright pink lighter. He crossed the circle to hand the lighter over and Info Desk Guy put a joint he took from behind his ear into his mouth. He shielded the end from the wind with his left hand and with his right grabbed Dex’s wrist rather than the lighter. Dex almost fumbled igniting the lighter, distracted by the touch and the hollows of Info Desk Guy’s cheeks as he inhaled deeply. The joint caught first try which was both a relief and a disappointment. The former because Dex wasn’t sure how long he could pretend he wasn’t freaking out internally; the latter because now Info Desk Guy let go of Dex’s wrist.

Info Desk Guy took the joint out of his mouth and exhaled away from Dex. “Thanks,” he said, his voice rough from the smoke.

“No problem,” Dex replied. He stepped back out of Info Desk Guy’s space.

“Do you want some?” Info Desk Guy asked, holding the joint out.

“Uhh-” Dex rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Lardo just killed that one and I have plenty to share.”

“Rude Derek.” Lardo called from behind Dex. He only realized then that he was standing in the middle of the circle and almost tripped on his own feet trying to get out of it.

Wait, Lardo knew Info Desk Guy’s name?

“You guys know each other?” Dex repeated Lardo’s earlier question, looking between her and Info Desk Guy, uh Derek. Lardo shrugged, taking the joint from Derek with an air of familiarity.

“Yeah, I lived next to this asshole in the dorms last year. He stunk up the hallway with his weed more often than not.”

“You were just as guilty as I was,” Derek laughed.

“Whatever loser. I gotta find out if this chick has a boyfriend or not. Farmer, I need you as wingman. You too Nancy.” Lardo passed the joint onto Dex. She grabbed onto Nancy and Farmer’s elbows and started dragging them away; a funny sight considering they both towered over her. Dex definitely could’ve done without Farmer’s very obvious wink as she let herself be taken away though.

Music spilled onto the lawn when they opened the door, but it got quiet again when it shut behind them and suddenly it was just Dex and Derek out on the lawn.

“So...” Derek said.

“So…” Dex repeated. He passed the joint back to Derek, who looked disappointed if Dex was reading his drawn eyebrows right.  

“I’ve probably had too much already.” Dex stuffed his hands in his pockets for lack of anything better to do with them. He continued at Derek’s raised eyebrow. “I’m on the hockey team and need to skate without coughing my lungs out tomorrow night.”

“Right,” Derek nodded. Rather than bring the joint to his lips, he crouched down and rubbed the lit end on the sidewalk. He examined it and then blew on the little bit that was still glowing. One last rub against the cement and he stood back up, tucking the extinguished joint behind his ear again.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Dex said. He scuffed his shoe against the sidewalk, feeling like a stick in the mud.

“Don’t want it to be a reason you have to leave.” Derek cleared his throat suddenly. “So what’s your poison tonight then William?” He asked.

“Dex.”

“What?”

“Dex, it’s my nickname. Only my ma calls me William when I’m in trouble.”

Derek grinned. “In trouble often Dex?”

“It’s a bad habit,” Dex shrugged, aiming for cool and casual but probably missing the mark and sounding like a douche. Was this flirting? Despite brushing off Dex’s attempts in library, Derek seemed actually interested in Dex now that he could string sentences together in some form of conversation.

“So, uh… you come here often?” Derek asked, kicking at the ground.

“Do I, a hockey player, come to the hockey frat often?” Dex raised an eyebrow, unable to let the dumb question by without questioning it..

Derek snorted and shoved at Dex’s shoulder. “Shuddup. I meant, do you come to these parties often? I’ve never really seen you outside of the library before.”

“Oh.” Dex tried to ignore the warm feeling in his stomach that came from knowing that Derek had been paying attention to him in the library. “Yeah, sometimes. The boys usually drag me out. But midterms just about killed me this year, so I had to set up camp in the library.” Dex was very glad that none of his friends were around to tell Derek the real reason he had started going to the library.

“Hey, I’ll drink to that,” Derek said, raising his hand to a weird half salute, that Dex shouldn’t’ve found as enduring as he did.

“Oh shit, we should have drinks; do you wanna get something?” Dex waved over his shoulder to the Haus. When he turned back to Derek, he was much closer than he’d been before. He smelled of weed and that mixed with his aftershave was strangely intoxicating. Dex hadn’t noticed how close they were in height before. He probably wouldn’t have to bend to press his lips to Derek’s and shit, wasn't that something? Dex’s face turned red yet again and he hoped that his face wasn’t giving his thoughts away. From the way Derek stared at him for a couple beats, Dex wasn’t sure he was doing a good job hiding those thoughts, but before he could anything stupider, Derek stepped back on his heels and nodded.

“Yeah, a drink would be great,” he said.

Dex led Derek into the Haus, happy when the door didn’t slam shut behind them. The music had been turned up louder since Dex had left, and it seemed that more people had were packed into the living room and entrance hall. He grabbed one of Derek’s wrist to lead him into the kitchen, just so they wouldn’t get separated. It’d be pretty rude to lose him in the crowd after he invited him in after all. Derek seemed to agree with Dex’s reasoning as he grabbed Dex’s back pocket with his free hand. Dex hoped his hand wasn’t as warm as his face was.

The kitchen was slightly quieter, but no less crowded. Wicks and Ollie had disappeared but Bitty was still in there holding court. From the tilt to his smile, Dex knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d join the party in the living room.

“How you doin’ Dex?” Bitty asked. He looked between Dex and Nursey and his eyebrows raised. “Or should I say, who you doin’ Dex?”

“Jesus Bitty.” Dex’s face felt like it was on fire now and he dropped Derek’s wrist in order to ladle tub juice into a cup. He handed it off to Derek without looking at him. “This is Derek. Derek, this is Bitty. He’s had too much tub juice probably.”

“Derek, huh?” Bitty’s grin widened as he leaned back, bracing his forearms on the counter behind him. His next comment got lost when a Beyonce song came on. He wasted no time in refilling his cup, and then shimmying past Dex with a wink and a “you kids have fun now.”

“Shit, he’s drunk,” Dex laughed, awkwardly rubbing his face. He could feel the heat from his blush, oh god. He leaned back against the counter, trying to maybe put some space between him and Derek, to give himself a moment to breath, but Derek followed the movement so their shoulders were touching.

“He’s hilarious,” Derek said, taking a sip from his cup. “Holy shit, this is amazing. Are you sure there’s alcohol in it?”

“There’s so much alcohol in this man. You’re gonna feel it in the morning, it’s dangerous.”

Derek held up the cup up to his face and looked into it. He shrugged and downed it. He ignored Dex’s shocked face, and tapped the empty cup against Dex’s, smiling widely. Derek’s cheeks were a nice rosy shade of pink and Dex took a sip from his cup instead of doing something stupid like kissing Derek’s cheeks just to see if his blush got as warm as Dex’s did.

“You wanna dance?” Derek spoke right into Dex’s ear and Dex couldn’t help the full body shiver. He nodded, not really trusting his voice not to break or something embarrassing. Derek’s smile grew and he hooked his hand into Dex’s back pocket again and motioned for him to lead the way. Dex did so happily, enjoying the press of Derek’s body against his as they squeezed past people to get to the living room.

“DEX!”

Dex stopped suddenly at Ransom calling his name from the beer pong table, causing Derek to step on the back of his heel and smoosh his face into Dex’s neck. He huffed as he pushed himself upright, and Dex’s stomach swooped at having Derek’s mouth so close to his neck, even if it was an accident. He willed the blood to stay in his face and not rush south.

“Oh shit, hey Derek,” Ransom said, pushing past the few people between him and Dex.

“‘Sup Ransom?”

“Not much my man, glad you could make it.” Ransom extended a fist for Derek to bump. “Dex, you gotta come play ‘pong. Me and Holtzy have next game. Defense game.”

“Nah, I’ll get alcohol poisoning if I play with C again, man,” Dex said, trying to slip past Ransom and continue to the living room with Derek. The choice between dancing with Derek and getting his ass kicked again at beer pong was an easy one.

“Play with Derek then.” Ransom rolled his eyes like that was the most obvious thing ever and went into the kitchen. Dex looked at Derek, who was watching Dex with a grin.

“D’you wanna?” Dex asked. “I’ve already lost like two games tonight. And that was much earlier.”

Derek leaned close to Dex to answer. “Maybe you just need the right partner.” And he grabbed Dex’s hand to pull him to the beer pong table. Dex let himself be dragged, not surprised that stupidly cheesy line was working on him cause it was Derek saying it.

They watched the current game finish. Tango and Whiskey left the table with one cup left against a couple Whiskey’s lacrosse friends. Holster whooped loudly when Tango sank the last one. He slapped their asses and started refilling and rearranging the solo cups, whistling while he worked. Ransom came back with the fresh water glasses and rolled a ball over to Dex.

“Start with eye to eye,” Holster said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dex held the ball out to Derek, who took it easily to face off against Ransom. They counted down; Ransom’s hit Derek in the chest and Derek’s went right in.

“Fuck yeah!” Dex crowed, holding out his hand for the ball back.

“Lucky sho-,” Ransom’s grumble was cut off by Derek sinking the next shot with a laugh at Holster’s expression.

“Your go, man.” Derek stepped aside to let Dex shoot. Dex raised his arm, hoping that he wasn’t about to embarrass himself in front of Derek with his lack of beer pong skills. He shot and held his breath.

The ball went into the same back corner cup that Derek’s had.

“No fucking way!” Holster groaned.

Derek laughed loudly, “Drink up boys.”

“What the fuck Dex? Have you been hustling us?” Ransom asked, pouring his two cups into one. “All this time we thought you sucked, but it was actually just Chowder?”

Dex just shrugged, laughing at his really dumb luck.

Holster’s next shot went in but Ransom’s went wide. Dex took the drink and the first shot but missed. Derek missed too and Ransom and Holster’s chirps started and continued until they had one cup left against Derek and Dex’s three. Dex took his shot first and missed, yes again Ransom thank you.

“Shit, I warned you I was terrible,” Dex said running a hand through his hair.

“It’s chill man,” Derek replied. He flipped off Holster’s attempts to distract him, took a breath, and shot.

It went in.

Over Holster and Ransom’s groans of disbelief and the cheer of the small crowd that had gathered, Dex stared at Derek. Derek threw his hands up in victory and Dex, ignoring every rational part in his brain, pulled Derek away from the table and out the front door. On the porch, after the door swung quietly closed behind them, Dex grabbed Derek’s face and kissed him.

Derek’s lips were soft, a contrast to the rough stubble under Dex’s hands, and when they moved against Dex’s, Dex couldn’t help the noise he made in the back of his throat. As he made to deepen the kiss further, Derek’s forehead smacked into his. Dex opened his eyes to see Holster had kicked the door open, like an asshole, into Derek’s back which had caused him to stumble into Dex.  

“Oh fuck, sorry. Heyyyy, get some Dex!” Holster held up a hand for a high-five. Dex glared over Derek’s shoulder and kicked the door shut in Holster’s face. Thankfully, Holster was kind enough, or drunk enough, in that moment to leave them be.

The resounding silence on the porch was awkward when Dex realized how close he and Derek still were, though they were no longer kissing. Yet neither made a move to put distance between them or to continue kissing.

“So ahh… you never said you were so good at beer pong,” Dex said as Derek asked, “Do you wanna maybe get coffee?”

Derek bit at his lip as Dex registered the question.

“Right… now?” he asked, stepping back and reaching into his pocket for his phone to check the time. It couldn’t be that late.

Derek huffed. “No, like maybe tomorrow. Annie’s is probably closed and I really don’t want to go on a first date at a Stop & Shop.”

For what felt like the hundredth time that night, Dex’s face heated. “You wanna go on a date?”

“I mean, yeah, was that not clear?” Derek looked nervous and Dex felt his stomach swoop in a good way. He stepped into Derek’s space again.

“Can I kiss you again?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” Derek smiled, relieved, and he stepped to close the space between them. He stumbled into Dex’s chest, again, banging his forehead against Dex’s when Holster opened the door.

“Seriously, you guys haven’t moved yet!? Christ, get a move on Poindexter!!”

Instead of replying, Dex flipped off Holster with one hand and grabbed onto Derek with the other. Derek laced his fingers with Dex’s, laughing as he got dragged off the porch.

Dex was going to kiss Derek somewhere where they wouldn’t get interrupted again.

*****

Sometime in January, Dex woke up with Derek as a comfortable weight against his side.  He was staring at Derek, somehow more beautiful in his sleep rumbled state than he had been the first time Dex saw him, while he stretched and planned his escape to get a fresh change of clothes before they went for breakfast. Derek opened his eyes like he could feel Dex’s gaze.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked softly. It took a moment to understand Derek’s shit-eating grin.

“Oh my god, you asshole! I’d hoped you’d forgotten about that, goddammit” Dex rolled as far from Derek as he could in the twin without falling off. “That was the cheesiest line I’ve ever said in my life. I’m so embarrassed.” He flung an arm over his face. Derek rolled over too, and situated himself to straddle Dex’s hips.

“You’re embarrassed!? I panicked and said something stupid about the fucking view from the window.”

“What else were you supposed to say when this weird random guy starts making dumb comments about your face?” Dex mumbled into his arm.

“Well, I wanted to ask him for coffee.” Derek tugged Dex’s arm away from his face. “Or dinner maybe. But then you started blushing and I got distracted thinking about how far it might go and blurted the first thing that wasn’t about me undressing you.”

Dex snorted unattractively. Derek grabbed his face and leaned down kiss him. He pulled back as Dex slipped his hands onto Derek’s naked thighs.

“Whaddya say Dex? Wanna get coffee sometime?”

“Yeah, okay.” Dex sat up and captured Derek’s mouth with his. “I guess I’ve found the right partner.”

Derek stilled. Then he groaned and dropped his head onto Dex’s shoulder.

“Gross, that was so cheesy.”

“You said it first!”

“I was drunk, shuddup.”

Dex happily shut up as Derek started kissing his neck.

Coffee could wait.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's with Dex's attachment to the Haus door? No idea, but I learned how to fix a screen door. 
> 
> Is beer pong used as a stand-in for Dex and Nursey as defence partners? Yes. 
> 
>  
> 
> My [tumblr](http://www.pongpalace.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> *Slight edits made February 27, 2017


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